Edith Piaf was my sister

and I long to fly
to her end of the wire
and ease her pain
just two sparrows
trying to get some scratch
wasn’t it sad when she fell
before my first birthday
I wonder why they were not convinced
I was born at the wrong time
the stork caught up
in a space-time loop, and
that back in Paris
in 1960
I wasn’t so unusual
and I could fly there

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8 thoughts on “Edith Piaf was my sister

      1. Hah! That doesn’t fit my mental image of you. Now I’ll be looking for clues in your writing. I recovered in the 80s from my excesses in the late 70s during my first three years in the Navy. Not too many regrets, but happiness that I didn’t go too far.

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      2. Finding and asserting independence can be liberating for the young, but painful for parents. I don’t have kids, so I experience parenthood vicariously. I would however, gladly accept the painful moments in exchange for all the happy memories.

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